


Package Swap

by alexdamien



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexdamien/pseuds/alexdamien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovino orders something from the internet, but the mail messes up and he receives the package from a strange Spanish man. Spamano. tw for mentions of depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lovino sighed deeply as he checked his phone still lying in bed. His package should already be here. Maybe. Probably. Hopefully. He bit his lower lip and listened for signs of his brother still in the house. He knew Feliciano was in their grandfather's house. In fact, Lovino had  _planned_  for the package to arrive during the days that he wouldn't be around. But still, paranoia stuck to the back of his mind constantly, whispering the worst about everything.

He heard a motorcycle starting in front of the house, and Lovino jumped out of bed, running down the stairs to open the door and found a package on his doorstep along with a mess of letters thrown all around it.

"What the hell," he muttered as he collected the letters and looked at the package. It was way bigger than he expected. And heavier.

He left the letters on the living room table and ran upstairs with the box in his hands.

"Stupid packaging," he said as he put the box on his bed and opened it. He felt around a sea of packing peanuts for the books he had ordered, when his hand grabbed something hard and cold. "Uh?"

He pulled out something heavy and long that seemed to glitter underneath the almost transparent packing paper. He peeled the paper away to reveal an antique looking dagger held within a sheath embroidered with golden thread that sparkled with the light that filtered from the window.

Lovino felt a weight settle in his chest. He left the dagger on his bed and grabbed the box. On the side with the address it read:

_Antonio Fernandez Carriedo_

_Plaza Cibeles, 1 28014 Madrid_

_España_

"Madrid?... Madrid?! What the fuck?!" yelled Lovino.

Madrid was so far from Milán that the very idea someone could get the addresses mixed up made Lovino lose faith in humanity. And who the hell was this Antonio whatever who bought fucking  _weapons_  over the internet? He was surely some weirdo obsessed with guns and knives like the ones he heard about on tv, who were apparently all over America.

Lovino threw the dagger back on the box, sealed it shut again, and threw it on the deepest corner of his closet for the time being while he decided what to do with it.

Then he crawled back into bed, and kept waiting for his package.

He waited, only getting out of bed after the sun went down to cook something to eat. He would inevitably overcook the pasta, or forget to add salt to whatever he had made, and he would end up hating the food with every bite and wondering just why he had even gotten out of bed.

He waited, and waited, and lost track of the time and the days until he opened his eyes and saw Feliciano smiling down at him. That annoying smile that was half love and half worry.

"Wakey wakey, big bro," said Feliciano, ruffling Lovino's hair.

His hand felt cold on Lovino's head and he glared at Feliciano.

"You're back?" he asked, glaring some more before burying himself in the covers.

"Yup," said Feliciano, opening the curtains and the windows to let the air in. "Grandpa was sad that you couldn't come."

"Yeah, well, spending days in the wild listening to nothing isn't my idea of fun," said Lovino.

"It was fun. We made a lot of delicious food. Grandpa sent you a bunch of it. Come on, he cooked some spaghetti for you this morning and wants me to call him and tell him if you liked it or not."

"That's stupid. Of course I'll like it," said Lovino, and climbed out of the bed.

The air blew through the open window, cold and harsh over his hot cheeks.

"Come on," said Feliciano, standing at the door.

_He knows_  whispered the paranoia at the back of Lovino's head.  _He knows that as long as you don't have to pretend in front of anyone, you can't even get up from bed. You can't even live._

"Sure," said Lovino.


	2. Chapter 2

To avoid Feliciano's sight, Lovino went out to the post office to complain about his missing package.

"What do you mean it was delivered? I didn't get it!" he yelled at the post office worker.

"I'm sorry, but the system says that the package with that number was already delivered." said the post office worker, nervously tapping her nails over the table. Alternating between staring at the monitor and avoiding Lovino's death glare.

"Seriously? That's ridiculous!"

"I'm very, very sorry sir but I see here that the package was delivered to your home address in...Madrid?...wait I...I need to check something," she said, jumping off her chair and walking away, her heels clacking against the marble floor.

Lovino sighed. "Madrid? What the hell is wrong with the postal service? I swear, this-" he stopped in the middle of his own muttering when his thoughts went straight to the box stashed at the back of his closet. The box full of knives. Well, one knife. Or maybe more, who knows? Lovino hadn't looked very carefully at the contents of the box. The paranoia started whispering all kinds of horrifying possibilities about that box. If he had received a box delivered to Madrid, and his own package had been delivered to that address, then could it be possible that knives guy had his address?

His phone vibrated and made a cute tingling sound, signaling a message from Feliciano.

"Aww, someone sent you a cute postcard!" said the text message attached to a photo of a postcard that said "¿Qué tal? From Madrid"

Lovino screeched and ran all the way back home.

"Where is it?!" he shouted the moment he stepped through the door.

Feliciano smirked at him from the kitchen and lifted the postcard. "Why didn't you tell me you had a friend in Spain~?" he asked in a sing song voice that made Lovino grit his teeth.

"Because I don't!" said Lovino, and snatched the postcard from him. He ran up to his room and slammed the door just for good measure.

He had to sit down on his bed before he could look at the back of the postcard.

"Hello Lovino! What a lovely name! I'm writing in englis because I don't know Italian and the address on the packag I got was from Milan. Since I got your packag wouldn't you hapen to have one that is mine? -Antonio Fernández Carriedo"

Lovino lifted an eyebrow at all the spelling mistakes. At least the jerk hadn't mentioned the contents of the package which was a small blessing in itself.

"So, who is this mystery guy who receives packages from you and thinks you have a lovely name?" asked Feliciano, opening the door just a little

Lovino threw a pillow at him. "No one! He's no one!" he yelled.

It was mortifying. He grabbed a large white index card lying around in his desk and wrote down.

_"_ _Antonio:_

_I did get your stupid package, and I can't believe you buy those things over the internet. Look, I want my package and you want yours, so send mine over and when I get it I will send yours to you. And don't you dare write down what's on mine, or I'll tell the police about the things you mail!"_

Lovino huffed as he looked at what he had written. It did sound a little weird to just mail as a post card. He would need an envelope. And postage.

He pondered whether or not to write down his number and email. It would make communication easier, but the weirdo already knew his address, and Lovino didn't want to give him any more. Much less information that would help him get things like his credit card number. No, he would just have to go back to the post office and send out the thing like he was living in the middle ages or something.

"I'm going out," he called from the front door.

Feliciano stopped shoving pots around in the kitchen and ran to the kitchen entrance. "Are you sending a letter to your friend so fast?" he asked, leering at Lovino.

"I'm not! I'm… I'm going clothes shopping," said Lovino, hiding the piece of paper behind his back.

"Then I'll go with you!"

"No! Dammit Feliciano you have awful style. And you're cooking dinner. Whatever, I'll bring you something. Bye!" said Lovino and rushed out of the house.

Even with the door closed he could hear Feliciano snickering.

After he dropped the letter by the post office, Lovino walked down Via Monte Napoleone. He was severely under dressed, even by his own casual standards. As he stood before the window of Salvatore Ferragamo, looking at a pair of beautiful black shoes, he realized he had worn the same jeans every day during the last week.

He arrived back home with a new pair of shoes, a couple new jeans and blazer that took his breath away from the moment he saw it. He had even gotten a nice scarf for Feliciano.

"I'm back," he called.

He could hear Feliciano talking on the phone on the kitchen as he left the bags on the living room couch.

"I'll call you later. No, can't talk now," he was saying thinking that Lovino wouldn't hear him.

"I brought you something," he muttered.

_He was talking to grandpa,_ whispered the paranoia.  _He told him how useless you have become._

"Something for me? Thank you fratello!" said Feliciano, hugging him.

Lovino grunted something to get him to go away and didn't ask him who he had been talking to.


	3. Chapter 3

That night Lovino lay in bed staring at the ceiling, actively trying to not think of anything and yet thinking of everything. He had to talk to his grandfather, and soon. But what exactly could he tell him? He had bought the books to help give him ideas about how to approach the conversation, but now this bullshit with the postal service and that knives jerk added new stuff to his list of things that sucked in his life.

He listened for any signs of Feliciano walking around the house, before he got up and walked to his closet.

The box with the knife sat untouched on the furthest corner, as if waiting for him. He closed the door and sat on the floor among his shoes while the small light of the closet projected annoying shadows around him.

He grabbed the box and pulled out the knife. Who would want something like that? Maybe this Antonio guy was some kind of collector? He dug around the packing peanuts and found something else. A long, rectangular velvet case like the one you would find at a jewelry store. He opened it to find a beautiful thin dagger with a golden handle that had the words "PLVS ULTRA" engraved in it.

Lovino stopped himself just as he tried to touch it, and closed the case. This guy was a weirdo who collected weapons, but at least the guy had good taste.

He dug a little more and found a book about gardening, and a coffee table book about bull fighting.

"Bull fighting? Seriously?" he said to himself as he opened it to look at the astounding photographs of the matadores in their shiny suits of lights. The book was in Spanish, and since the only word Lovino knew in Spanish was Hola, he didn't even bother to try reading it. He just looked at the pictures of the men as they brandished swords and capes. He wondered if Antonio was a matador. Maybe he was among the ones in the photographs. He flipped the pages back to the index and looked at all the names, but there was no mention of any Antonio. Before the little voice in his head could berate him for thinking ridiculous things, he went back to passing pages and reveling in the beautiful details of the suits, on the expressions of determination as the matadores stared down at the bulls, and the strange beautiful nonsense of it all. Facing death for a fleeting sense of glory.

He fell asleep on the floor of his closet, with the book in his hands, and dreamed of Antonio telling him "Hello Lovino. You have a beautiful name," with the voice of a mysterious Spanish spy in a movie.


	4. Chapter 4

"Fratello~," said Feliciano in a sing song voice.

"Oh God, what now?" said Lovino, not even bothering to look away from the James Bond movie he was watching. James Bond shouldn't be English. He should have been Italian. Or at least Spanish. Who ever thought English men were sexy?

"Someone wants to know about you," said Feliciano, dangling a white envelope in front of him.

Lovino read the word España in the address and reached to snatch from him but Feliciano stepped away.

"Nuhu, tell me who is your friend," he said, smirking.

Lovino could never understand why people thought Feliciano was an pure, innocent soul.

"Fine, fine. He's… uhm," Lovino wondered if he should say the thing about the messed up packages. But that would inevitably lead to the question of what he had ordered himself and he didn't know if he was ready to explain  _that_. "I met him during fashion week and-"

"You're lying," said Feliciano

"I'm not!"

"You're making your lying face, where you think too hard about things. Come on," he said, sitting next to him in the couch.

"I don't make a lying face, you dumbass," said Lovino, feeling his face turn red.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" said Feliciano.

Lovino realized he was not ready to have  _that_  conversation, and much less over the guy that he met because their mail had gotten swapped.

"Holy mother of God Feli, it's nothing. This guy just got a package swapped with mine and we're talking about how to send our stuff back to each other. Jesus!"

Feliciano narrowed his eyes at him. "You're lying, but you're not making the lying face," he said.

Lovino sighed and snatched the envelope from him. He tore it open and looked at the postcard of Madrid and read aloud "Hello dear Lovino."

"That doesn't sound like a stranger," said Feliciano.

Lovino covered his brother's mouth. "He's a weirdo, shut up. Anyway.  _Hello dear Lovino. Please don't tell the police_ ," Lovino cringed inwardly at the way Feliciano lifted his eyebrows at him but kept reading. " _I just collect them, that's all! I want to get my package but how can I be sure that you will send it to me after you get yours? You could just keep both. And then I would have to go all the way to Italy to hunt you down to get my things back_."

Lovino frowned.

"What is it?" asked Feliciano.

"This guy is an idiot. Look, the first part is written in black, but this next one is in blue. He says  _Ok I got an idea. I will go to Italy and I'll meet you somewhere in Milan and you'll bring my package and I'll bring yours and we'll exchange them. I'll be there in a week. Here's my phone number and email, just tell me where to meet you_. What the actual fuck, this guy is insane!" said Lovino, throwing his hands in the air. "It's like the beginning of a stalker movie!"

"What doesn't he want you to tell the police?" asked Feliciano, looking over the postcard.

"That he collects knives and daggers. The package I got had a couple daggers and books," said Lovino.

"You opened it even though it wasn't yours?"

"I didn't know it wasn't mine! I thought it was the one addressed to me."

"And what did you order?"

"Uhm, some books... God, this is a nightmare."

Feliciano laughed. "So that was all? Geez, you had been acting like you had some big secret but you just got your mail mixed up? I was worried for you. Just call the guy and tell him to meet you at Nerino, and you can just laugh it off during dinner," he said, giving the postcard back to Lovino.

"Yeah, sure. I'll call him later," muttered Lovino.

He hadn't realized he had been that obvious, and wondered if grandpa had noticed it when he had come to pick up Feliciano.


	5. Chapter 5

That evening when Feliciano left to buy something for dinner, Lovino dialed the number on the postcard. It rang a couple times before someone picked up.

"¿Diga? ¿Quién habla?" said a deep, male voice.

Lovino froze and couldn't speak for a moment.

"Is that you Gil? Is this another prank?" asked Antonio in English.

"Uhm, is this Antonio Fernández? I...I'm Lovino Vargas," said Lovino in English.

"Oh, Lovino! From the packages thing, yeah. Your voice is lovely too!" said Antonio.

"What the- Look, I got your postcard. When are you coming to Italy?" he asked, and decided not to ask why the hell did he ever think that it would be a good idea to travel to another country to meet a stranger after exchanging a single letter like some creepy stalker.

"I'll be there tomorrow. I'm in Avignon today, so we can meet tomorrow night. I'll bring your package, and I can bring you something from here too. The wine is awesome!" said Antonio.

Lovino face palmed. "No, I don't want anything from Avignon. Just...just bring my stuff ok? I'll bring yours."

"Don't tell the police please!"

"No, I won't tell the police," said Lovino. "Anyway, don't come to my house, that's creepy. Let's meet somewhere else."

"It's creepy? Why?" asked Antonio

Lovino sighed. "Do you seriously not see how weird it is that you're coming to my country to look for me when you don't even know me?" he asked.

"Uhm, maybe it is a little odd...But uhm, my package was really expensive so I have to make sure that I will get it back."

"Yeah, those knives look very expensive," said Lovino, thinking especially of the one in the fancy case.

"Did you like them?" asked Antonio, and Lovino could almost picture him in his mind smiling and as happy as a dumb puppy.

"They were pretty. But you're still a weirdo for collecting them."

"Whaaat? But Angelina Jolie collects them too!" cried Antonio.

"I'm fairly sure you're not Angelina Jolie though."

"I might be! You don't know that!"

"You don't sound like Angelina Jolie."

"They edit my voice in the movies."

Lovino scoffed a laugh and immediately frowned, angry at himself. "Stop that!" he yelled at Antonio.

"See? I made you laugh, so I'm not weird anymore!" said Antonio.

"You're still not coming to my house," said Lovino, fighting against the smile that pulled at his lips. And failing. "Let's meet at the Nerino Dieci. It's on via Nerino. You seriously can't miss it."

"Sure, sure. I'll see you there tomorrow at 7 Lovi. Bye!" said Antonio and hung up.

"I got you," said Feliciano, pointing at him with his cell phone.

"What?" asked Lovino.

Feliciano turned his phone around to show him a picture of himself smiling as he talked on the phone.

"I...He was saying some stupid things, that's all," said Lovino. He hadn't even noticed when Feliciano came back home. "Delete that photo. You know I hate photos of myself."

"Aw come on, I don't have any photos of you smiling!" cried Feliciano.

"Ugh, you're so annoying," said Lovino and went up to his room.


	6. Chapter 6

The hours passed slowly as Lovino waited for the day to be over with. He changed his outfit at least three times, and then fussed about whether or not to bring the box or put everything in a smaller box. He read over the postcards dozens of times and even ended up googling the guy, even though he had told himself he wouldn't. The only thing he found under that name was a guy who left a senseless comment on an article about some turtle invasion in Spain. Something about wanting to keep all of the turtles and how it wasn't stealing if they wanted to go with you. He hoped that wasn't the same Antonio he was about to meet.

He ended up watching yet another James Bond movie on the living room, with the box sitting next to him like an unwanted guest.

Feliciano came to sit next to the box. "So, this is it?" he asked. "Can I see the knives?"

Lovino shrugged to indicate that he didn't give a shit, and Feliciano opened the box.

"Wow, look at these things," he said, holding up the one with the embroidered sheath.

"They're pretty cool. And he said they were expensive too," said Lovino.

"I could go with you. Just...in case he really is a creeper?" offered Feliciano.

Lovino tapped the tv remote. It  _was_  probably a good idea to not go all alone to meet someone who could potentially have weapons on himself. And he would have probably noticed that if he hadn't been panicking over nothing and everything at the same time, or thinking about how nice Antonio's voice had been on the phone. Or how much sexier James Bond would be if he was Spanish. No, Italian. Italians were the sexiest.

"Yeah, you should come with me," said Lovino.

"Why are you blushing?" asked Feliciano.

"I'm not!"


	7. Chapter 7

Lovino told Feliciano to go to the restaurant earlier and stay in a corner, waiting to help him in case the guy turned out to be dangerous.

As he waited at the table with the box next to his feet, he felt dumber than he had felt ever before. What if Antonio never came? What if he came and laughed at the books he had bought? Because of course he must have already opened the box. What if he talked too loud and Feliciano heard about the books? He would have to tell him which books he had bought sooner or later anyway. But Lovino hoped it would be later. Much later.

He looked at Feliciano, who smiled without a care as a waitress brought him a glass of wine. Maybe Lovino should have ordered one for himself too. He wondered if he should do that. Would anyone notice that he had been stood up? He looked around and noticed only a few more people in the restaurant

As the minutes clicked away, Lovino grew angrier and angrier. Did the Spanish not know the concept of punctuality? He had even set the hour himself and it was already seven past eight.

His phone rang, showing the words  _Spanish Bastard_ on the screen.

"Where are you?" growled Lovino.

"Oh, there you are!" said Antonio.

Lovino heard the same words behind him and turned to find a tall, tanned man with the brightest green eyes he had seen. He hung up and blinked to make sure he was real. And indeed, he was, walking towards him and waving with a dumb smile in his face and crashing into a waitress that carried a bottle of wine. Those were some nice eyes, but the guy didn't seem that bright.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," said Antonio in English with a heavier accent than it sounded over the phone. He jumped back on his feet and helped the waitress up. "I'll pay for everything, I'm really sorry."

Lovino's lips turned up in a small smile. This guy was dumb. He probably only bought the daggers because they were sparkly.

"Hey there. You're Lovino right?" asked Antonio, sitting down in front of him. He wore only a simple t-shirt, which let Lovino see the way his toned muscles moved underneath the fabric.

"Yes. You're Antonio then," said Lovino, trying really hard to not stare too obviously.

"Yup. Sorry about that. I got distracted. That guy on the corner looks a lot like you," said Antonio, pointing with his thumb behind him where Feliciano sat grinning like a fox.

"Ah yes, that...that's my brother. He came by just in case you were some dangerous psycho," said Lovino, immediately regretting every single word that had escaped his mouth.

"He's your brother?" asked Antonio, turning around to look at Feliciano. "Hi! I'm Antonio. Come here, I'm not dangerous!"

Lovino facepalmed, and Feliciano nearly snorted out his wine.

"You know what? I think dinner's just not happening," said Lovino, picking up the box and placing it on the table. "Here. Have your stuff and give me back my package so I can leave."

"What? Why?" asked Antonio. He looked exactly how a large dog would look like if large dogs were capable of pouting. Like a huge, sad, pouting puppy.

_This is how you get killed in a scary movie_  said the voice in Lovino's head, but before he could stand up, Feliciano was at their table with a bottle of wine.

"Yeah Lovi, why? He seems like a fun guy, let's have dinner!" he said, sitting down in between them.

Lovino wasn't sure if he should breathe relief, or try and strangle them both. The anxiety was killing him, and he could feel the staring eyes of everybody else in the restaurant burning at the back of his head.

"Look, I brought everything in the original box, so we can exchange now and have dinner in peace. How does that sound? Look, it's even sealed," said Antonio, pulling out a small box from his backpack that had little flags stitched in it. At the front, bigger than all the other ones was the Spanish flag.

Lovino made vague noises of agreement, and when Antonio gave him the box, he stuffed it into his briefcase right away. He could see Feliciano look at him with curious eyes, but he didn't ask anything about the box or its contents, for which Lovino gave a silent prayer.

Antonio, though,  _did_  look inside the box checking for all the contents to be inside, which made Lovino feel mildly insulted.

"Ah~ thank you so much!" said Antonio, putting the box in his backpack. "I was so worried when the packages got mixed up. Now, how about you order dinner? I can't speak any italian."

Feliciano laughed and ordered food for two. "I won't have anything. Would you just look at the time," he looked down at his wrist, realized that he wasn't carrying a watch, looked around until he spotted a watch on the wall, and pointed at it "It's past eight, and I...have to...go feed the dogs."

"Feli we don't have any dogs," said Lovino.

"The neighbor's dogs!" said Feliciano, standing up. "I hope you have a nice dinner, and it was a pleasure to meet you Antonio. Bye Fratello. Oh, let me help you with that. I'll bring it home so you don't have to carry anything."

Before Lovino could react, Feliciano had grabbed Lovino's briefcase and walked out of the restaurant.

"Oh my god," muttered Lovino, paralyzed by the shock. "...He's evil."

Antonio laughed. "You two are so funny. I can't believe he left you with his bill," he said.

Lovino blinked, and realized that a waitress was glaring at him.

"That bastard," said Lovino.

But it was too late. It would be too ridiculous to run out of the restaurant chasing after Feliciano. It looked like the conversation would have to be sooner than he expected. He leaned back on his chair and lifted his glass of wine.

"To evil little brothers who grow more than they should," he said.

"Well, I don't have any brothers, so I wouldn't know. But I'll trust you on this one," said Antonio, clinking his glass to Lovino's.

"Lucky you," said Lovino, but Antonio's answering smile wasn't as bright as usual.

The waitress arrived with their food. A plate of pasta for Antonio, and Risotto for Lovino. Antonio made the dumbest surprised face with each plate that was brought, and even convinced Lovino to let him try some of his tiramisu.

After the meal, Lovino and Antonio walked for a few blocks, talking about Antonio's farm.

"It's been a hard year, but good overall," said Antonio, looking up at the bright moon.

Lovino smiled. "Sounds like a beautiful place."

"It is. You should come some day. I'll give you the address if you ever want to drop by."

"I already have your address."

"Oh, no, the Madrid one is for my office."

"So you have two places?"

"Err...It's complicated," said Antonio, and stopped walking. "Wait, where are we?"

"What?" said Lovino.

"I think I'm lost." said Antonio with a sheepish smile.

"How can you be lost? You kept walking along with me!"

"I know, but I just...forgot I actually was going somewhere. I think my hotel is...that way...Or maybe not…" said Antonio, pointing to the opposite way.

Lovino facepalmed. He had been having such a good time. Good food, good wine (maybe a little bit too much wine? no, there was never too much wine), and Antonio's company had been far more enjoyable than he had expected initially. He wanted to enjoy these few moments of calm before he went back home.

"Wait, I have a map in here," said Antonio, rummaging around his back pack.

"Don't you remember the address? Or the name of your hotel?"

"I dunno, actually it was a hostel. New Generation Hostel I think?"

In the end, Lovino put him in a taxi and gave the address to the driver. He hoped the guy wouldn't mess up on the paying part of the trip. It seemed like a small miracle to Lovino the fact that he had arrived to Milan in the first place.


	8. Chapter 8

Lovino hoped that Feliciano had gone to sleep by the time he got back home, but also knew that he wasn't nearly as lucky.

"Where were you? It's almost midnight!" said Feliciano from the living room as soon as Lovino took a step inside.

"I was out with Antonio. He got lost so I had to put him on a cab. I honestly didn't expect him to be so...not dumb, but… airheaded maybe?" said Lovino, taking off his coat. "And if you hadn't stolen my briefcase, I could have called to say that I was going to come home late."

Feliciano pursed his lips. "If I didn't do that, you would never have told me," he said.

Lovino looked at the books out of the box sitting on the living room table. Two books. How to come out of the closet and how to deal with depression.

A heavy weight settled in Lovino's chest. "I was...going to tell you."

"No you were not! I… I'm… Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Feliciano.

"And why should I?!" yelled Lovino. "It's none of your business if I'm…"

"You're gay, so what? I knew that. God, Lovino I'm your brother. What did you think I would do?"

Lovino felt like he was drowning. "You knew? H-how...?"

"That doesn't matter!" said Feliciano throwing his arms around him. "You're also depressed and I don't know how to react or what to do, and I'm sad becauseyou didn't tell me, but also angry that you didn't tell me and now I'm crying and it's your fault!"

Lovino felt Feliciano's tears against his cheek. This was not in any of the scenarios he had prepared in his mind.

"Feli I…," he tried to say but Feliciano just hugged him harder.

"I'm sorry, it's not your fault. I'm just babbling. Let me cry some more, ok?" said Feliciano.

Lovino smiled. It felt strangely nice, and comforting in a way he couldn't understand.

He hugged Feliciano and let him cry.

He didn't realize when he started crying too.


	9. Chapter 9

Lovino was not ready to talk to their grandpa yet. And he made it very clear that he would probably not be ready to do so this decade. Or the next. And Feliciano would keep his mouth shut unless he wanted Lovino to separate his head from his body.

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, god no," said Lovino, and pulled the covers over his head.

Feliciano had said he would be out all weekend, and Lovino's plans had quickly shifted to  _Hibernate_. Hibernate  _forever._

The doorbell rang again.

And again.

And again.

Lovino was going to kill whoever that was. He got up and stomped downstairs.

"What?!" he yelled as he opened the door.

On the other side stood Antonio holding a two bottles of wine.

"Hi Lovi," he said, making a strange face that Lovino couldn't understand. Was he angry? Was he trying not to laugh? Was he secretly judging the fact that Lovino had just gotten out of bed for the first time during the last 36 hours? He  _was_  probably judging him. The bastard.

"Uh, you. Again. I told you not to come to my house," said Lovino. He wanted this interaction to end right away. Before the fact that Antonio had seen him like this could properly register in his mind.

"But your brother told me to come! He said to bring food but uh… I don't know much about Italian food and I didn't want to bring something you didn't like so...Wine. Yeah. Here. Have it," said Antonio, giving both bottles to Lovino.

"Feliciano invited you?" asked Lovino.

"Yeah. He said you wanted me to come have dinner with you guys but I had to bring the food. Sorry about the food. I mean, we can order something and I can pay, or I could cook something if you let me use your stove."

"That little jerk," said Lovino, staring at the bottles of wine. "Come in and wait in the living room."

He left Antonio to watch tv while he took the fastest shower of his life and dressed in something that didn't make him look like the useless slob he was sure he was. Then he ran back down to find Antonio rummaging in the fridge.

"I told you to wait on the living room!" said Lovino.

Antonio gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, but I thought I should see what I could cook."

"You're not cooking. I am. Here, have a bottle opener. Open one of the bottles and then look for a movie that we can watch," said Lovino.

After that, he shooed Antonio out of the kitchen and cooked up some simple pasta along with a plate of cold cuts. The only thing he was thankful for was that Feliciano always kept the kitchen well stocked.

As he cooked the pasta, he remembered Antonio's face when he had opened the door.  _He thinks you're a disgusting slob. You couldn't even change out of your pajamas to open the door, could you?_

"Hey Lovi," said Antonio, and Lovino nearly screamed.

"Don't sneak up behind me dammit!" he said, going back to glare at the sauce.

"Heheh. Sorry. Hey, the entire Fast and Furious movies are on Netflix! Let's have a marathon!"

"What? The movies about cars?"

"You haven't watched the Fast and Furious movies?"

"I don't like silly action movies."

"But I saw on your Netflix that you watched a bunch of James Bond movies. Do you want us to have a James Bond marathon?"

"I d-don't really like James Bond!" said Lovino, feeling his face heating up.

"Haha! You're all red like a tomato Lovino! You blush so easily, how cute. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you like James Bond."

"Ugh, James Bond is dumb. You're dumb. And I'm not blushing!" said Lovino, turning off the stove.

"Fine, fine. Where are your glasses? I brought this wine from Auvignon. A friend told me it was very good."

"Second cupboard to the right," said Lovino, pointing to the cupboard. The pasta was almost ready. He didn't know what Antonio liked so he went for a simple tomato and mozzarella sauce. "I'd forgotten that you passed by Auvignon. Actually, what are you doing still in Italy? Don't you have like a farm to work on and stuff back in Spain?"

"I do, yeah, but I'm avoiding my responsibilities," said Antonio, handing him a glass of wine.

Lovino couldn't help but smile. He felt like he did that too much around Antonio, and made a mental note to try and stop. He didn't want the guy to think he was happy having him around or anything.

He also made a mental note to yell at Feliciano for setting him up like this.

They settled for watching one of the cars movies, then an artsy italian film, then a Jackie Chan movie, and another artsy movie.

Lovino made more pasta, this time with some sausage and basil.

He had never felt as proud as when Antonio said it was one of the best dishes he had ever tasted.


	10. Chapter 10

Feliciano heard the door closing downstairs and stayed at the window of his room looking at his brother as he walked away from the house. It was so nice to see him going outside now, but Feliciano was sure that Antonio would leave and go back to Spain soon, and the thought that Lovino would go back to being the sullen, angry person he had become was too much for Feliciano.

He picked up the phone and dialed their Grandfather's number.

"Ciao Feli!" said his grandfather, with such happiness in his voice, Feliciano couldn't help but smile.

"Ciao grandpa! How are you?" asked Feliciano.

"Ve~ It's alright, I'm just dealing with some work around here. How are my precious little grandsons doing now?" said his grandpa.

There was some noise behind him and the call sounded staticky. Feliciano bit his lower lip when he heard something like a fight near his grandfather.

"I'm fine, grandpa. Is now a bad moment?" asked Feliciano.

"No, it's alright. Don't worry, let me go somewhere more quiet…," said his grandfather. "Ok, it's quiet now. You sound worried Feli. Are you really fine? Did something happen?"

"No! No! No...Well maybe, uhm, not to me but…"

"Did something happen to Lovino? Is he alright? What happened? I'll go there right now!"

"No! Grandpa no! He's fine. Nothing bad happened. I just felt like you needed to know that uhm… ve… well fratello has been having a rough time. Like, emotionally. I think he would... Hmmm," Feliciano struggled with finding the words to explain himself. "I mean he's depressed. Heh, I guess I should have noticed it sooner. What with him not getting up from the bed, and not eating, and not everything. God, I'm such a terrible brother."

"What? He's depressed? Why?" asked his grandfather.

"I don't think you have to have a reason to be depressed grandpa. I think...uh…," said Feliciano, lying down on his bed. "I think it just happens."

There was a silence on the other end of the line that stretched until Feliciano felt uncomfortable. He wished he could at least see his grandfather's face.

"I don't understand…," said his grandfather after the pause. "Hmp! Well then, I'm going there and I'm going to make him see that I love him!"

Feliciano tried not to laugh and ended up coughing. "Grandpa, that's...I don't think that's the problem," he said, suddenly too aware that he didn't actually know what the problem was. He wasn't even sure there  _was_  a problem.

"Feliciano, you do appreciate your brother, right?"

"I do, grandpa."

"Really?"

"Really!"

His grandfather sighed. "I'm still going there to make sure he knows that I love him. We'll figure out how to help him later."

"Uhm, yeah...But don't tell him I told you," said Feliciano. "He'll get mad, but…"

"I know, I know. But he would have done the same thing himself anyway."

The front door slammed closed and someone ran up the stairs.

"Sorry, gotta go," whispered Feliciano and hung up just as Lovino got to his bedroom door. "Fratello, you're back. Why all the running?"

"I came back to borrow your car. I just had the best idea. We're going to the beach," said Lovino with a slight smirk.

"The beach?" asked Feliciano, but he gave Lovino the keys anyway.

"Yes. And we're picking calzones* on our way there. Antonio keeps laughing every time I say the word calzonnes for some reason, he's so stupid," said Lovino, his smirk turning into a smile.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"What? No! Why would I?"

"It's just that you haven't driven anything in a while. I could just drive you guys there, and...leave you...alone…," said Feliciano, wisely choosing to not say that he would leave them alone  _together_.

"No. I'm going to be ok. We'll be back tonight. I'm a perfect driver!" said Lovino, putting on his shades and walking away. "Perfect!" he yelled, running down the stairs.

Feliciano sighed in content. As long as his brother smiled and didn't crash into anything, he was happy.

He clasped his hands and made a little prayer "Please God, don't let him crash into anything. Pleeeease."

**A/N:**  *the word calzones means panties/underwear in Spanish


	11. Chapter 11

Lovino and Antonio stopped by a small store to pick some things. Bread. Wine. Cheese. Antonio went almost spastic over the hams while Lovino shook his head in mock exasperation, and picked another bottle of wine. He decided that no, they didn't have to come back tonight anyway. They could just find somewhere to stay at the beach and watch the stars. He placed it on the counter and fished for his wallet, but by the time he pulled it out, Antonio had already paid.

"Don't do that!" cried Lovino, hitting Antonio's arm softly.

Antonio laughed. "You're driving, at least let me pay for the food," he said, taking the bag.

"Then I'll carry it!" said Lovino, snatching it from him as they walked out of the small store.

"Aw, you don't have to," said Antonio, smiling.

"There you are!" yelled someone in front of them. A tall blonde man with a strong French accent and a five o'clock shadow. "I've been looking everywhere for you and here you are, flirting with some hot Italian!"

Antonio paled. "F-Francis, hey...Uhm, I was about to call you…," he stuttered.

"Nonsense. You were supposed to meet me two days ago. You should already be back in Valencia! This is too irresponsible, even for me," said the French guy named Francis.

"I know, I know. I'll go back tomorrow. Really Francis. I just can't go back right now," said Antonio.

Francis lifted an elegant eyebrow at his pleading, and then looked at Lovino. "Aren't you so lovely, you'd make a guy forget the world," he told him with a wink.

"Hey leave him alone!" yelled Antonio and stepped towards them, but two strong arms held him from behind.

"Oy, got you now! Kesesese!" laughed someone behind Antonio. "This time we're getting you back home!"

From where he stood, Lovino could only see a head of white hair. Francis grabbed him by the shoulders and slipped a card on his shirt pocket.

"Here's frére Francis' card. Antonio said you have a lovely voice, you should call me and let me hear it," whispered Francis to Lovino's ear.

Lovino tried to lean away from him and found his throat constricting to the point he couldn't speak. He felt completely frozen to the spot.

"Stop that, Francis! Gilbert let me go, this isn't funny anymore," said Antonio, struggling against the man who held him from behind.

"The only one who's going to stop everything and go back to Spain is you," said Francis, letting go of Lovino and striding up to Antonio. Without warning he punched Antonio in the stomach so hard he fainted.

Lovino dropped the bag and ran up to him, but Francis stopped him.

"What are you doing?! I'm calling the police!" yelled Lovino, biting back tears as he took out his phone.

"No, no, mon cher. Believe me, this is the best for Antonio," said Francis. He reached and in less than a second had grabbed Lovino's phone away from his hands. "He really needs to go back home and settle his affairs. After that's done, we'll bring him back to you, in one piece. We'll even put a nice bow on him for you when we deliver him."

"W-who are you people?!" asked Lovino, stuck between fleeing in panic, and trying to save Antonio.

The white haired guy lifted Antonio on his back and winked at Lovino. "Hey it's ok, we're friends!" he said. Antonio's head lolled forward as he spoke.

Lovino screamed. "Polizia! Polizia!" he shouted. The people from the store came out running, and a few passersby stopped to stare.

"Aaand we're gone," said the white haired guy, running to a nearby car.

Francis ran to the driver's seat and turned it on. Lovino ran towards him and tried to stop him from driving away.

"Stop!" yelled Lovino, but Francis pushed him away.

"Sorry, sorry mon cher!" he said, blowing him a kiss and driving away with Antonio unconscious in the backseat.

Lovino panted, and ran to get his own car.

But it was too late.


	12. Chapter 12

Romulo Vargas arrived to his grandsons' house with a bunch of pasta and meat and an entire crate of wine. All ready to pamper and overfeed them, like a good grandfather should.

"Where are my precious babies?" he called as soon as he stepped into the house.

Feliciano, pale and on the verge of crying, came running down the stairs.

"Grandpa! Lovino's locked in his room. I don't know why, but he's crying," said Feliciano, tears finally falling from his eyes though he seemed not to notice them. "He won't tell me anything. I just- I don't understand!"

Romulo pulled him against his chest. "It's alright. Stay here. I'll talk to him," he said, and placed a kiss on top of Feliciano's head.

He walked upstairs and he could hear Lovino's sobs through the door.

He kicked the door open so hard, he crushed the doorknob. Lovino screamed in terror.

"What happened to you?! What happened to my precious grandson?!" he bellowed, stalking towards the bed and taking Lovino in his arms.

"Mio Dio! Nonno! What are you doing?!" yelled Lovino, struggling against his grandfather's embrace.

"Loving you! Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you? I'll kill them," said Romulo, hugging him. "I'll hurt them and then I'll kill them. Just say the name, Lovi."

Lovino scoffed a laugh against his grandfather's chest.

"Don't kill anyone Nonno," said Lovino, and stopped struggling.

Romulo rubbed soothing circles on his grandson's back. "Then why are you crying?"

Lovino gritted his teeth. "I don't know," he said, and clenched his fists. "I'm not supposed to be crying. I don't know why I'm so sad. I should be angry, but I started crying and I couldn't stop. I just couldn't stop."

Romulo nodded. "Bene, then tell me, why should you be angry?" he asked. He could work with anger. He was used to anger and rage and violence. He didn't know how to respond to sadness other than with love and as much pasta as he could cook.

"Something crazy happened. I can't tell you, it's too crazy and I…," he said, and his body started shuddering, tears falling from his eyes. "I should have done something. I should be doing something dammit! But I can't!"

Romulo hugged him harder. "Calm down. Breathe, just breathe and tell me what happened."

"Well I met someone, and...it's a long story…," said Lovino.

Feliciano gasped from the door. "Did Antonio break up with you?" he asked.

"You have a boyfriend?!" asked Romulo.

"Antonio's not my boyfriend!" yelled Lovino, red as a tomato.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?!" asked Romulo.

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"If he broke your heart I will break his legs," said Romulo.

Lovino was about to yell again, but stopped himself. "What?"

"If he broke your heart I will break-"

"No! I meant...you wouldn't mind if he was my boyfriend? Like, he's not my boyfriend, but like if I...ever had one…"

Romulo held Lovino's face with both hands to make sure he was looking straight at him. "Lovino, you're my precious angel. I don't care who you love as long as they love you back," he said, placing a kiss to Lovino's forehead. "And if they don't I will break their legs."

Lovino took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "Thank you Nonno...But don't hurt anyone!"

"Hmmm, I'll try," said Romulo. "But what was it you were saying about this Antonio?"

"Oh, right. He was kidnapped!"


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you angry with your brother?" asked Romulo

"No."

"Really? It's ok if you're angry. You two used to fight all the time when you were little."

"I'm not angry at him Nonno! I wish there was something I could point to and say  _This is the problem with me. This is the reason why I start screaming in the middle of the night and why I start crying for nothing and I can't stop_. But there isn't anything. I have everything. Everything is perfect. So the problem must be me," said Lovino.

"Everything is perfect? What is that nonsense now? Everything isn't perfect. Lovi, you're an orphan, and don't even tell me you and your father didn't have hard stuff between you two, because I loved my son, but damn if he wasn't a jerk to you," said Romulo. "Things have been hard for you. I'm sorry, I should have been there for you."

Lovino shook his head. "No, you have always been there for us Nonno. This...this isn't your fault. I guess I just...I wish I was more like Feliciano. Why can he go on like nothing? Why can he face every day while I can't?" tears fell from Lovino's eyes. "Dad was right when he left everything to Feliciano. He knew I would just fall apart. I can barely get up from bed. How was I going to even run the company, or take care of the house?"

"Ahh, the inheritance thing. I got angry with him over that too. I even went and yelled at his tomb.  _You just set them up one against the other_  I told him," said Romulo, waving a finger in front of him the same way he used to do with Lovino's father. "I hoped my anger would reach him in heaven. But then I thought some more about it, and I guess I do understand why he did it. He always thought you were too much like me. Too strongheaded and harsh. Feli is more mellow and calm. He does well in good times and is strong when he needs to. He has been doing great with the management. Much better than I ever did, hahaha!"

Lovino scoffed. "I'm not like you Nonno. I'm not like dad either. Or Feliciano…," he said.  _I'm not like anyone else. I'm the messed up first son, before Feliciano came along._

"You are. You can't see it now, but when you were born your dad yelled at me that you had my same eyes and he was worried you would get into trouble at school and start picking fights as soon as you could walk," said Romulo. "I told him he was being stupid. I told him I was the only violence in the family, but…I'm sorry for being so selfish and hurting you and your brother. I should have taken better care of you."

"Nonno this isn't your fault," said Lovino.

_Great, now you made him feel guilty for your own stupid sadness,_ said the voice inside Lovino's head.

"But it is. Everything that happened was my fault. Even your father's death. I thought that loving my family would make up for what I did. You know, I've always believed that the ends justify the means. But as I grow older I realize that the ends  _are_  the means.

"W-what?" asked Lovino.

Romulo reached to tussle Lovino's hair. "Now, don't tell me you don't know what I work at. Even your brother knows that much."

Lovino sighed. He knew of his grandfather's involvement with the mafia, but he had always deluded himself into believing that it wasn't as bad as his father used to say.

"Is it true? Did he die because of you?" asked Lovino. "Was he…

"He died because he was my son, and because I loved him. His only crime was being born," said Romulo.

"So that story about him being mugged," said Lovino, feeling anger blossoming bright in his chest.

"That story was to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. I am an old man, and my days are only bright when you and your brother are in them. But when you're young, you think that revenge is some sort of moral duty. Revenge just steals the little joy we have in life. So don't go around having dumb ideas of finding out why or who did it."

"Seriously? You tell me this and expect me to just go on like usual? Like I didn't just find out my dad was fucking murdered?" asked Lovino, clenching his fists. The anger in his chest felt like light. It made his sight sharper.

"Yes."

"But I can't!"

"Then would you like for me to kill the people who did it? I know who they are. I know where they are. I've seen them down the street, with their families. I would have to kill the entire family too, of course. Can't leave anyone who would want revenge and try to kill you and your brother. I often lay awake at night, and think of how I would do it… But the next day I don't, and I just call you and make sure you two are alright. And I guess that I failed at that too, didn't I?"

The rage in Lovino's chest vanished. "I-I'm sorry…," he mumbled, and realized he was crying again. "I want to be alright. I really want to " he turned to look straight at his grandfather, tears falling freely down his cheeks. "I wish I could be strong like you."

_Because I bet when dad looks down at you from heaven, he feels safe that everything will be ok. But I'm afraid of even wondering what he would think of me like this._

Romulo reached out to pull him into a sudden half hug. Too harsh and too rough, and with so much love, Lovino found himself smiling through the tears.


	14. Chapter 14

"There's the house," said Romulo, and Lovino leaned forward on his seat.

He rubbed at his tired eyes and strained to see the two people standing in front of the house.

"That's the albino weirdo that held Antonio!" he said, pointing at a white haired tall man wearing a black tank top. He stood next to a taller blonde in a suit that did nothing to hide the fact that he was built like a brick house and could probably bend metal tubes with his bare hands.

As soon as the car approached the sidewalk, Lovino jumped out and ran up to them.

"You! White head!" yelled Lovino. "What did you do with Antonio?"

The white haired guy turned around, his face turning into an amused smirk when he recognized Lovino.

"Well, aren't you cute? You came to find him all the way here. That's adorable!" he said, and Lovino realized his eyes were red. He really was albino.

"Bruder, did you and Antonio get in trouble again?" asked the tall blonde with a tired sigh.

"He was already in trouble! I helped him get back so he could be the responsible adult that he's supposed to be. Don't you trust me Lud?" whined the albino.

"No," said the blonde, pushing up his glasses.

Lovino growled. "Just tell me where he is already!" he demanded.

His grandfather jogged up next to him after parking the car. "Hey, what's up? Are they the people who kidnapped your boyfriend?" he asked.

"You kidnapped Antonio?!" asked the blonde. He looked equal parts ready to crush a wall and give a financial results presentation.

"I didn't kidnap him! Jesus, he's at the courthouse right now. We practically had to drag him there so he could settle his affairs. Francis must be with him."

"Where is the courthouse?" asked Lovino.

The albino leered at him. "Oy, you'll never find him in time cutie," he said, and gave a strange hissing laugh. He reached out to tussle Lovino's hair when Romulo's hand clamped like iron around his wrist, making him scream.

"Don't touch my grandson," he said, and pulled him forward. The albino tripped, and Romulo trapped him in an arm lock. "And you're going to tell us right now where this Antonio guy is."

"Let him go!" yelled the blonde. "He bruises easily!"

"Mein Gott Ludwig! I don't bruise easily. Would you stop embarrassing me?!" yelled the albino.

"Stop! Stop talking Gilbert!" said Ludwig, then he turned to Romulo. "Let him go, I'll show you where he is, but don't hurt him!"

After some tense negotiations where Gilbert made it a point that he did not bruise easily and he was, in fact, very manly and strong; they all climbed on Romulo's car and Ludwig gave directions to reach the courthouse.

"Stop helping them Lud!" cried Gilbert, tugging at his brother's jacket sleeve.

"Please behave," said Ludwig, pushing him back. "And do wear your seatbelt."

Feliciano fidgeted with his hands, caught between Gilbert and Lovino in the back seat. Lovino let his head fall back and decided to not care about the whole situation. It was taking all of his inner strength, but he had avoided thinking about the fact that he had crossed the continent looking for Antonio, and was now riding a car with two strange Germans who looked like bodybuilders crossed with financial advisors.

A couple blocks later, the courthouse appeared before them as soon as they turned the corner. At the entrance, dressed in a long blue coat, Lovino recognized the Frenchman who had punched Antonio, and he gritted his teeth. He could almost smell his disgustingly overwhelming cologne as he remembered him leaning to whisper in his ear.

"Oh, look, there's Francis," said Gilbert, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Antonio must still be inside then."

Romulo parked the car and Lovino almost jumped out as soon as he could. With clenched fists, he stalked up to the Frenchman, who was yelling something that sounded like obscenities in French on his cell phone. Lovino snatched it away from him.

"You. Give me back my cell phone," ordered Lovino.

Francis stumbled backwards, almost losing his balance. He glared at Lovino for a few seconds before recognizing him.

"Mon cher! You came so quickly," he said, winking at him.

"Give me my phone. Now," said Lovino.

Francis lifted his hands in front of him. "I don't have it with me. It's at Antonio's house. I gave it to him when he woke up."

"Hmp. Then I'm keeping  _your_ phone until I get mine back," said Lovino. He shoved the phone in his pocket and started walking into the courthouse.

"N-now, don't be like this. Why don't you stay here with frère Francis and we'll wait for Antonio together?" asked Francis, hugging Lovino from behind into an iron embrace.

He wore a different cologne. Something woody and excessive that made Lovino feel like he was suffocating.

"Let go of me," demanded Lovino through his teeth, trying to disentangle himself from Francis' arms, but it was useless. The Frenchman had an astounding strength, despite his slim look.

Francis then gave a high pitched scream and let go of him.

"I think I heard my lovely grandson asking to be released," said Romulo, holding Francis by the shoulders so hard, all of Francis' screams of pain were reduced to a low pitched continuous wailing. "You go look for your friends Lovi," said Romulo, smiling at Lovino. "And do invite him for dinner too."

Gilbert and Ludwig stared at the way Romulo held Francis with equal faces of terror, and the last thing Lovino heard before entering the courthouse was Ludwig asking him politely to let go of Francis or he would have to  _engage in unruly wrestling maneuvers._


	15. Chapter 15

Lovino ran into the courthouse and slowed down his pace when he remembered that there were usually guards in these places. He looked around but saw nobody except for a woman in a dark suit going down the right hallway.

The instinct to avoid all contact with other human beings led him to go down the left hallway, careful to hear even the lowers whisper. He took a right turn, then a turn to the left, until he heard people speaking in Spanish. A woman's voice, and a couple male voices. Among them was Antonio's voice. He hurried his steps, until he reached a corner and saw them standing outside the door to an office.

He jumped back and slipped a little on the marble. He caught himself before falling and pressed his back to the wall, giving a fast prayer that his shoes had stayed quiet enough.

"¿Pero es que cuánto tiempo necesitas para venderla?" asked the female voice almost yelling, and Lovino saw in his head the mane of dark curly hair he had gazed before retreating.

It was clearly a question, and she sounded different from the way Antonio spoke Spanish. They spoke with a softer edge to the words.

"Lucía, por favor deixa-o," said a male voice, with a completely different tone, and kept talking in something that Lovino thought was Portuguese.

Lovino leaned around the corner to take another look at them, and his eyes fell on Antonio and the way he looked down at the floor, as if unwilling to stare at them. He wore a dark blue suit that seemed too big for him. Seeing him shift before those two persons, looking down and passing a hand through his badly combed hair, Lovino felt like he was staring at him while at a funeral.

"¡Tienes dos semanas, no más! ¿Me oyes?" yelled the woman, and stalked off.

Lovino's heart jumped when he realized she was walking towards him and he entered the first door to his left and found himself in a tiny bathroom. He held his breath until the sound of heels faded away, and then he opened the door just a little bit. Just enough to take a peek outside.

Antonio and the other guy were walking, so close that Lovino didn't have time to close the door.

"She's angry," said the other man. Someone who looked like Antonio, but with longer hair and darker skin. He wore goggles and leather biker gloves despite the somber black suit and tie he had.

"I'm…sorry…," said Antonio, and put his hand on the man's shoulder.

The man shoved him off, stepping away from him. "I'm angry too. I wish I wasn't, and I know you're not at fault but…It's painful right now," he said, and walked away.

Antonio stood there watching him go for a moment, his face blank and dazed, until his expression turned to one of rage. He growled and kicked the wall.

"Joder!" he shouted, pulling at his hair. His voice then broke and he sobbed. Shaking his head, he entered the bathroom while rubbing his eyes.

And tripped over Lovino, who tried to scramble away and ended up crushed underneath him.

"L-lovino?" asked Antonio, blinking in confusion at him with red teary eyes.

"Get off me!" said Lovino, trying to get away from under the weight of Antonio's long legs.

"What are you-?"

"I wasn't spying on you!" yelled Lovino, and his heart jumped at the echo of his own voice in the bathroom.

Antonio stared at him for a moment, then opened and closed his mouth a couple times, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure of what.

Lovino was ready to put words in his mouth though. So ready.

_Why are you stalking me you weirdo?_

_You're a scary pervert_

_I don't want to see you ever again._

In his head, Lovino heard every word as if it was real. More than real, because the sound of those nonexistent words reached all the way to his heart.

"Y-you," said Antonio. "You came looking for me?" he asked, his mouth turning into a smile despite his teary eyes. "Oh por Dios Lovi! You were worried and came looking for me? Thank you!"

Antonio got up and embraced him. Lovino froze in the hug, with no idea what to do.

"I'm sorry," he said, his face buried in Lovino's hair. "I'm sorry I worried you so much. I meant to call you, but Francis stole your phone and there was so much to do and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

With shaky arms, Lovino returned Antonio's hugs, feeling the warmth of his body underneath the layers of cheap fabric of his ugly suit.

"What happened?" he asked without moving his face from Antonio's chest. The warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne sent Lovino's heart racing, yet froze him in place.

"I left some stuff pending here when I went to see you. My friends are just jerks, heheh."

Lovino headbutted him in the chest. "That's not what I meant," he said, glaring up at him. "Those people..."

"They don't matter."

"They do. They made you cry, and I want to know why," said Lovino, clinging to him harder.

"Aw, you're cute," said Antonio, smiling down at him, but Lovino could only see the tear trails on his cheeks. He wondered if the rage he felt blossoming inside him was the same that his grandfather felt when he saw how miserable Lovino was. They were just as alike as nonno had said. They didn't know how to respond to life other than with rage and violence.

He wondered if, when Antonio found that about him, he would hate him for it.

"Stop that. You're ignoring my question," said Lovino, but didn't let go. Antonio's hands felt so good on him. Comforting in a way he didn't know he missed.

"Sorry Lovi. It's just…this is a long story, and it won't matter in a few days. We're all angry, and I understand if they take out their anger on me."

"Well they shouldn't! That guy even said whatever's happening wasn't your fault, so they should stop being jerks to you. Who the hell are they anyway?"

"My half siblings."

"What?! You said you didn't have any siblings!"

"I wasn't supposed to. And after this legal stuff is over, I won't. They say they don't want anything to do with me, and that they refuse to acknowledge me as their brother. They're from Brazil, and they'll go back home once the inheritance trial is over."

"What. The. Fuck."

"I know! You ever see those soap operas where the guy has a hidden second family? Well it turns out  _my mom and I were the second family_ ," said Antonio, trying to smile just as his eyes started filling with tears again.

"That's…wow I just. God, that's awful. I'm sorry but your dad was a jerk."

"I know. Good thing he died two months ago."

"Good god, I'm sorry."

Antonio pressed his forehead to Lovino's. "Thank you. It's been…painful," he said.

The door opened and in rushed Gilbert, Francis and grandpa Romulo.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY BABY?!" yelled Nonno.

It took a while to convince everyone that no, Lovino had  _not_  travelled all the way to Spain to make out with Antonio in a bathroom.


	16. Chapter 16

Antonio had a nice house. A really nice house that seemed too clean and orderly for it to be his. The décor and the soft muted colors did seem like him, but the way everything seemed to be sparkling clean and in its place struck Lovino as strange in a way he couldn't explain.

"Ah~ Gil, Ludwig, thank you!" said Antonio, looking all around his house. "It looks so nice and clean!"

The white haired guy gave an arrogant smirk. "Of course it's nice. We're the best at cleaning! There's no one better than the Beilschmidt brothers to put order in any mess. Even yours!" he said.

The tall blonde just sighed and stood a little at the back of everyone. Feliciano immediately gravitated towards him and started chatting in excited whispers.

"So you're a friend of Antonio too? But you seem so different!" said Feliciano, tugging a little at the sleeve of Ludwig's dark suit.

Ludwig pushed up his glasses. "Francis, my brother and him have been friends for a long time. Since childhood, in fact. I sometimes tag along. Mainly to make sure they don't get into too much trouble," he said.

Lovino gritted his teeth and walked near the entrance to the kitchen, where Antonio had gone to fix dinner for everyone.

"Take a seat! I'll fix something real quick" called Antonio as he pulled out pots and pans from different counters.

Francis took out a bottle of wine and rummaged around for a bottle opener, while Gilbert grabbed food from the refrigerator and brought it to Antonio.

"We should just order something," said Gilbert.

"No, no, Lovino cooked for me when I visited. I should do the same," said Antonio.

Lovino fidgeted and bit his lower lip. Antonio felt like he had to cook for him? That was bullshit. If he wanted to order a pizza he should just do that and be done with it. Maybe he felt bad about the whole bathroom thing? And what if he didn't really want them all in his house? Now Lovino was there, and he had brought all his family, and maybe it was all making Antonio very uncomfortable but the idiot refused to show it. It  _did_  seem like Antonio's instant reaction to everything was to smile.

"Here, you look like you need it," said a voice with a strong French accent.

Lovino looked up from his shoes to stare at the blonde Frenchman who had stolen his phone. He held a tray with wine glasses in one hand, and offered him one with the other.

"Hmp. I'm fine," growled Lovino, but took the glass anyway.

"Really? You seem a bit nervous."

"I'm not. You are the one who should feel nervous because you stole my phone, and if you don't give it back soon, I'm gonna have to redecorate your face with my fist," said Lovino. He decided he hated this guy. Outrageously gorgeous, suave and sharp dressed while strolling around Antonio's house like it was his own. Who did he think he was? Oh, right, he was Antonio's lifelong friend.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But like I said, I don't have it anymore. I do know where it is, though," said Francis, and leaned in close enough to whisper. "It's in Antonio's room. You should go look for it. It's in the dresser next to the bed."

Lovino felt his face burning, but before he could say anything, Antonio was next to them holding a plate of cheeses and a huge knife.

"Ah, Francis, would you help me put this in the living room table?" he said, giving the plate to Francis and ushering him away.

Lovino breathed in short lived relief at being free from Francis, but then felt Antonio's arm around his waist, pulling him into the kitchen.

"Don't listen to Francis," said Antonio, leaving the knife on the counter.

Lovino felt a knot in his throat. "O-of course I won't. It's not like I can just sneak into your room like nothing!" he said.

Antonio's eyebrows rose. "What? Wait. What was he telling you?"

"H-he told me to look for my cell phone in your room. Uhm, that it was near your bed."

Antonio laughed, and Lovino felt even more embarrassed than he had with Francis. Was he just some kind of joke between Antonio and his friends?

"Don't laugh at me, you jerk!" he demanded, hitting Antonio in the chest.

"Ow, ow, sorry!" said Antonio, recoiling a little, but hugging him as soon as Lovino stopped hitting him.

"What did you think he was telling me?" asked Lovino, but kept to himself the question he was most desperate to ask:  _Am I just a joke to you?_

"I worried he was hitting on you," said Antonio. "Francis tends to be very…uhm, forward with people."

"Oh. Uhm…really?" asked Lovino, letting his head fall against Antonio's chest. It felt nice to stay like that.

"But he's a nice guy. He's helped me a lot, especially with all the legal stuff after my dad passed away. And Gil and Lud have been very nice too, taking care of my house and all."

"I thought they had kidnapped you," said Lovino, hitting him with very little strength. "They knocked you out, that's crazy."

Antonio laughed. "Well, then I'm crazy too, because I've done that a few times myself. We get into fights all the time over nothing and it drives Lud up the wall sometimes. But don't tell your grandpa, or he'll think I'm too violent to date you."

"Dumbass…wait. Dating?" asked Lovino, frozen for a moment.

And then the realized he was in Antonio's arms, after having looked for him halfway across the continent.

But mainly, he realized the warmth and the peace he felt in his arms.

"Weren't we?" asked Antonio with a smile, and Lovino saw that he was starting to notice the different variations in every one of Antonio's smiles. The forced one, the casual one, the  _yeah sure I'll go along with whatever_  one. And he thought that maybe it wouldn't be unpleasant to spend day after day reading all those smiles and understanding them one by one.

Lovino scoffed.

"Guess we are now," he said.


	17. Chapter 17

The sound of Feliciano breathing next to him had kept Lovino awake. If he closed his eyes, Lovino could almost feel like he heard everyone sleeping all around. Gilbert and Ludwig on the couch, Francis and his grandpa in the room next door. Antonio, sleeping in his room at the end of the hallway. And Feliciano snoring. Especially Feliciano.

It could almost drive him insane.

Lovino sat up and looked at the moonlight filtering through the curtains. His heart started beating faster, and he felt hot. Too hot.

He slipped out of the bed and grabbed his shoes. Feliciano stirred a little, stopped snoring, and then fell into a strangely silent sleep. Lovino stood next to the bed, looking down at him for a moment, before walking out of the room.

Closing the door behind him, he took a moment to look towards the end of the hallway, where shadows hid the door to Antonio's room. He could go there and open the door, and…and then what? Tell him that he couldn't sleep? That he felt trapped, and afraid, and desperate even though there was no reason for him to feel like that? He wanted to tell him something though. He wanted to speak to him and have Antonio hold his hand and just… _listen._

He almost took a step towards the door, but stopped on his tracks. What would Antonio think of that? Sneaking into his room like that would probably weird him out. Lovino shook his head and headed downstairs where he found Gilbert and Ludwig sleeping in the living room with their clothes neatly folded and arranged on the coffee table. After a judgmental glare towards them, Lovino slipped out of the house and sat down on the front steps to lace up his shoes. He looked at the empty street, feeling the cold night air hitting his face. There were no strange whispers of breath here, alone with the night. And the shadows already knew all his fears. But he couldn't escape them.

Or maybe he could?

He could stand up and start walking. Walk away from the night, and from the weight of his brother's shadow. Away from his grandfather's secrets, and from the fear of ruining whatever he had with Antonio. He could walk away now when everything was perfect and Nono still believed in him, and Antonio hadn't realized that he didn't really love him. Because of course they would all be disappointed in him at the end. And the pain of walking away and leaving would always be less that the pain of having them hate him.

He could send a postcard, when he reached the ends of the earth; before he ventured into the ocean to leave everything behind. He would write to his grandfather saying that he was sorry for not being as strong as him, and not being able to stand the pain of living. He would write one to Antonio too, thanking him for loving him even among the depths of his own pain.

"Aren't you cold?" asked Antonio behind him, and Lovino startled.

Antonio wore a blanket with tiny happy tomatoes printed in it, and sat down on the steps next to Lovino, covering them both with the blanket.

Lovino opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words for anything.

Antonio leaned against him, letting his head fall against Lovino's shoulder. "Look, that jerk's still awake," he said, pointing to a light on the window of a nearby building. "He borrowed a book from me last year and never gave it back."

Lovino smiled. The scent of Antonio's hair next to his face felt very calming. "Which book?" he asked.

"The third Harry Potter book," said Antonio, holding Lovino's hand.

"You like Harry Potter?"

"A little. Not as much as Gilbert. He was the one who made me read the books. He may seem mean, but he's actually a really nice guy."

Lovino hesitated before speaking. "Do you think I'm a nice guy too?" he asked, unsure of what reply he expected, or why he asked that in the first place.

"Nice? I think you're adorable," whispered Antonio against Lovino's neck, and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Stop that! It tickles!" said Lovino, falling down to lay against the steps in his attempt to get away from Antonio's wandering hands. "Bastard, don't do that!" he growled, trying to sound angry, but couldn't help himself from smiling.

Antonio smiled above him, and placed kisses all over his cheeks and the tip of his nose, never letting go of him.

"Ah~, you're so cute when you pretend to be angry," said Antonio. "Come, let's go back inside. You can stay in my room if you don't tell your grandpa," he winked. "I won't try anything, but he might not believe me."

Lovino took a deep breath. "Don't you want to know why I was here?" he asked.

"I do. I want to know everything about you. But you don't seem ready to tell me, and that's ok," said Antonio hugging him.

Tears filled Lovino's eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, and pulled Antonio closer to kiss him in the mouth.

The pain of leaving might have been less than the pain of being left behind. But staying was worth it for those moments when he realized every day brought joys that he had been hiding from, lured away from life by the whispers of shadows.

Shadows that fell apart when Antonio smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic. If you have enjoyed the story, please consider liking it or leaving a comment. It would mean a lot to me.
> 
> Also, I decided to end this story here, as I felt it would be a good emotional place to end since the story I wanted to tell was the one of Lovino and Antonio getting together despite Lovino's depression, but I have realized that there are still a few secrets and things mentioned in passing that I didn't delve into. So I would like to know if you the reader would be interested in me expanding the story and developing all the characters in depth.
> 
> Once more, thank you for staying with me for the entirety of this story *hugs*


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